


rust at the edges

by amuk



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Brotherly Bonding, First Love, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21882757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: It would be so easy to forget what Dimitri had become, to remember the golden child he used to be and not the crazed killer he’d turned into.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Glenn Fraldarius
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29
Collections: 2019 Dimilix Holiday Exchange





	rust at the edges

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mino](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mino/gifts).



> Prompt: “I love you but I have to hate you” and somewhere, a bit of blood
> 
> Can I just say how much I love the two prompts you gave? Ahhhhh. Fingers crossed I finish the second one!

i.

Felix tugged at his collar. The bowtie was constricting, almost choking, and he bit back a growl of frustration. It was bad enough his father forced him to come to the capital in the first place; to throw on the formal wear on top of that was pure torture. The suit felt too stiff and bulky and he felt almost like a marionette as he moved.

“Uncomfortable?” Glen asked, standing tall next to him. There was a lazy smirk on his face, as though he was enjoying a private joke, and Felix hoped the joke wasn’t him. His brother didn’t look the least bit phased by the situation.

Then again, maybe he was just used to it, helping their father as much as he did.

“Yeah.” Felix frowned, his cheeks puffing as he sulked. They’d been standing in the castle’s ballroom for years it felt like, waiting in line to greet the royal family. All around them, the other nobles quietly chattered with one another, low murmurs that sounded like snakes hissing in the grass. “Why am I here?”

“You said you wanted to help out,” Glen chided. He crossed his arms, raising a brow as he looked down at Felix. “Did you change your mind?”

“No.” Felix scowled. “I just thought I would help on the battlefield.”

“Don’t let the chandeliers and jewels fool you. This is a battlefield too.” As Felix blinked at him blankly, Glen chuckled and ruffled his brother’s hair. “You just have to say hi to the prince and then you can go.”

“Really?” Felix squinted at his brother distrustfully; Glen had tricked him before. Many times, actually. He wasn’t sure what Ingrid saw in him. “You mean it?”

“Of course.” Glen stepped forward as the line moved. “Just make sure to be polite and—”

“And make sure Father doesn’t get angry,” Felix finished, rolling his eyes. He tugged on his collar again with a grimace. “I know, I know.”

“Great.” Glen stood straighter, his smile tightening. He adjusted his sleeves quickly. “Because we’re here.”  
  


“Wha—” Felix cut himself off as the people in front of him dispersed and suddenly, he and his brother were at the front of the line. The ballroom itself was magnificent to behold, with candles in niches and ornate carving on the wall. All of this paled in comparison to the three regal thrones that stood in front of him, on an elevated platform. The armrests were carved like lion heads, inlaid sapphires and rubies giving them a facsimile of life. Candlelight softened the harsh edges of the throne.

Dressed in blue silk, a kind queen waved at them from the leftmost throne. Felix knew he was staring, his eyes jumping from her to the stern king in the middle throne before finally settling on the young prince on the last throne. He was staring and his father would be angry, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. As it was, he was having difficulty remembering how to breath as he gaped at the golden prince who smiled like sunlight.

Felix tore his eyes away before they burned. They were the same age but everything about the prince felt softer, more fragile. Dimly, he was aware his brother was kneeling, and Felix quickly feel to his knees as his brother nudged him gently.

“Your majesty,” Glen greeted, his voice slightly deeper. Any other time, Felix would have teased him for that. Now, he was too aware of the prince, of his stare.

“Glen.” The king inclined his head slightly. “It is good to see you. I trust you are well?”

“Yes, your majesty.” Glen lifted his head, facing the king head on. “I have brought my brother here as well. In time, I am sure he will come to aid both you and the young prince.”

Felix quickly looked up. “Y-yes.” He stared at the prince, at his blue eyes and kind smile and nodded quickly. “I’ll make sure to protect his highness.”

He thought the prince smiled wider at that, but he couldn’t be sure.

ii.

Felix tightened his grip on the reins, pulling them short as he stopped his horse. Around him, a battle raged, soldiers screaming as they charged at one another. The rain had stopped hours ago but the field was still slippery, mud splattering everywhere as swords clashed and heavy metal boots stomped. It was chaos and he didn’t know where to turn.

Glen would have known what to do. Glen would have seen this all and known just where to go. Bile rose up Felix’s throat and he leaned over his horse to hurl. For all his knowledge, Glen was dead and Felix didn’t know how to feel about that. Even now, it didn’t seem real, that his brother had died protecting the king, that the king was dead and a war now filled the vacuum left behind.

Did Ingrid know? Felix didn’t think he could tell her, didn’t think he could watch her face break at the news. He had seen how she’d looked at Glen, how her eyes had brightened whenever they’d visited. There was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth as he straightened up, wiping his mouth. An arrow whizzed overhead and he ducked.

He was in a battle. There was time to think about this after; right now, he had to survive. No, more than survive—he was here for a specific reason: Dimitri was fighting. Dimitri was fighting and Felix had promised to protect him and while he didn’t know what Glen would have done, Glen would have wanted him to keep that promise. Forcing down the nausea, he drew his sword and quickly scanned his surroundings.

Enemies and allies alike were coated in mud, their colours hidden behind a thin layer of brown. To his right, there was a large clash of foot soldiers, with lancers on horseback charging down at them. A loud neigh directed his attention to his left. A black stallion reared, a man with a spear clinging to its back. No, not just any man, it was Dimitri.

And his spear was covered in blood. 

Dimitri laughed darkly, twirling his spear above him before plunging it into the chest of a soldier in front of him. There was nothing clean about his cut. Almost savagely he yanked the lanced out of his opponent, leaving a jagged mess as he urged his horse to run down another enemy. It was like watching a feral animal, each blow wilder than the last. Blood flecked his blonde hair, his face, but none of that deterred the prince.

Felix almost dropped his sword at the sight. The prince had gone mad. It was almost beautiful, the carnage, the smooth flow as Dimitri speared soldier after soldier. Vomit rose up his throat once more and this time, Felix didn’t fight it.

iii.

It was unfortunate, really, how small the academy was. The dorms were all hemmed together, the classrooms right next to each other, and narrow corridors connected them all. Ever a creature of habit, Felix always took the same route to the training grounds. The same tiny hallway where unfortunately Dimitri was returning from his daily practice.

Felix clicked his tongue. He should have waited a little longer. Now he was going to have to deal with _it._ Maybe, just maybe, the boar was tired—

“Felix!” Dimitri greeted cheerfully.

—and of course he wouldn’t be so lucky. Squaring his shoulders and clenching his jaw, Felix continued to march forward, ignoring Dimitri.

“Felix?” Dimitri repeated, stepping to the side until he blocked Felix’s path. And of course, because of how small this place was, it was entirely impossible to walk around him. “Heading for some training?” He smiled brightly, as though he were a man and not a beast.

“I don’t waste time on animals,” Felix spit out, his right hand curling into a fist.

“You really do hate me.” Dimitri frowned, his sunny smile dimming slightly. “I cannot understand it.”

“There is nothing to hate,” Felix corrected sharply. “You are just a boar, a wild animal. I don’t think about such things.”

“Boar?” He bit his lip and rubbed his forearm awkwardly. “I would hope you would think a little more of me than that—we are childhood friends.”

“Friends?” Felix snorted. “I do not become friends with animals.”

“And I am not an animal,” Dimitri rebuked, a trace of anger in his voice.

“…no, I suppose not.” It would be so easy to forget. To remember that sunny child from their youth and let it all go. Dimitri looked like a perfect prince, just steps away from taking his place on the throne.

Blood-soaked steps away. The pretty child might have turned into a handsome man, but all Felix could see was the smirk on Dimitri’s face as he taunted his victims. The dark laughter as blood sprayed on his uniform. The bitter aftertaste of bile hadn’t left his mouth.

Felix stepped to the side, forcing his way past Dimitri. “Animals don’t do what you’ve done.”

Dimitri flinched and he felt a small satisfaction at it. A small heartache at it.


End file.
